Agent N6: Dylan (15 page)

Dylan and Dar stood across the street from Capri’s lab in nineteen eighty-nine, the blue and red lights of the police car splashing over them in unsettling intervals. They’d made it through time with no incident, the graphene suit holding up well.

They’d already visited the trailer park where Saint grew up, but found the home vacant. Dylan felt like Tristan, trying to teleport to a moving target. The longer the others remained in the past, the more likely they changed the course of events. He and Naylor could shoot for a past event, but in truth, it may’ve never happened now that Cyrus brought Luke and Teague to nineteen eighty-nine.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Dar said, as they watched the police car drive away, leaving the street in front of the lab deserted.

Walking into the street, Dylan spotted a wad of paper amongst the pieces of plastic and debris. Picking it up, he recognized Teague’s writing on the labels from the canister and case he’d found on her table.

His heart picked up speed, his mood lightening. “Shit, this is Teague’s, Naylor.”

He couldn’t think about her getting hurt. Or worse. That just wasn’t an option.
Lose
was not part of Teague’s vocabulary, either.

Stuffing the wad inside his suit, he kept it as a talisman.

I’m coming, baby
.

Dar broke into the lab, but found it deserted. They jogged to the hospital across the street. Looking at the bustle of activity inside the emergency room doors, they went around to the main doors and entered the deserted foyer. The information desk sat empty, the hallway to the elevators bare.

Giving him a backhanded tap on the arm, Dar pointed to a sign that said
emergency
. Trotting down the corridor, he followed Dar into a maze of hallways, trying to avoid contact with others. Rounding a corner, they found themselves in the middle of activity, surrounded by wailing people and busy hospital personnel. They jumped back, out of sight.

“How do we look around without being seen?” He and Dar were both big men, wearing graphene and titanium suits.

With another tap on the arm, Dar handed him a folded up hospital gown. Hell, he just got out of one. He pulled it on and tied it at the side. A woman’s groggy moan caught his ear.

“Luke…”

Flattening against the wall, he stopped to listen.

“Luke…?”

He heard a nurse rush into a compartment just around the corner. “Annie, you’re awake.”

Annie Crawford aka Brianna St. James. She was supposed to die tonight. Did that mean they were too early? Or, had Luke’s presence already changed that? Dylan looked back at Dar, who gave a nod.

“Where’s Luke?” she said, her voice an agitated slur. “I need to see Luke. Get me, Luke.
Please…
”

“Calm down, sweetie. Let me find him.”

Peeking around the corner, Dylan saw the nurse walk down the hall, in the opposite direction.

“Stay here, Naylor, in case Luke shows up,” he said, over his shoulder. “I’m going to follow her.”

“Roger that.”

Following at a discreet distance, Dylan stopped at each crossroad, checking the hallways before entering, hoping to get some kind of advance warning on Cyrus.

“Has anyone seen Dr. Arns?”

Dylan stopped just shy of the nurse’s station. He couldn’t cross without being seen.

“He was talking to the couple that came in with Brianna St. James. Did you see the woman? She looks exactly like Diana Hamilton – God rest her soul.”

Dylan did a double take. Teague Hamilton. Diana Hamilton.

Her mother. Dylan had never asked what her mother did for a living. Maybe she worked in the medical field where these people knew her. She would’ve died around this time.

A grin split his face. Cyrus must be having a fit if people recognized her. What an idiot for bringing her here. At least the conversation confirmed Teague wasn’t hurt. Thank God.

He heard another voice chime in. “I’m looking for them, too. Annie is calling for someone named Luke.”

“That’s her father,” the other said, appreciation ripe in her voice. “What a fox.”

So Luke managed to gain entrance by saying he was Annie’s father. Good move. They were around somewhere.

What the hell was a fox?

“I’ll head down to radiology. If I see Dr. Arns, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

Stepping back into a restroom, Dylan lowered his arm and watched the nanobots create a tall, linen cart. Pushing it out the door, he headed in the direction the nurse had gone, walking on the opposite side from the nurse’s station.

Seeing a sign for radiology, he branched off in that direction. He caught sight of the nurse as she opened a door.

“
Oh
.” She yelped, before backing out and running toward him.

A loud growl sounded from the room.

Ducking behind the cart, he watched her pass. The cart disintegrated before he ran down the hall, the nanobots following him and crawling up his leg.

He shoved open the door. A bald man wearing scrubs lay on the floor, his face a pale mask of death. Dylan crouched beside him and checked his pulse.

Nothing. His wrist was still warm so he hadn’t been dead long.

Dylan had to get out of there before someone found him with the body.

Stepping over him, Dylan noticed something peeking out of his shirt pocket.

Teague’s phone.

Pressing the main button, a photo of a document came up. Glancing it over, Dylan’s heart pounded harder the longer he read. Someone had killed Teague’s parents.

Cyrus.

Running out the door, he headed back to Dar. If the body was still warm, Cyrus had to be close by. They had to cover the exits.

Finding Dar where he left him, Dylan told him everything as they tossed away the hospital gowns.

“It’s going to give me great pleasure to kick this guy’s ass,” Dar said, as they ran to the front lobby.

“He’s mine,” Dylan said.

They ran out the front door. Luke Powers’ came around the side of the building, legs flying, his face beaten and starting to bruise.

“Powers,” Dar said, in a stage whisper.

Luke stopped short, his eyes bugging out. He gave them a quick onceover. “Good God, you’re here.”

Dylan looked behind him. “Where’s Teague?”

He pointed over his shoulder. “He’s taking her to the time machine.”

“
You left her with Cyrus
?” Grabbing his shoulders, Dylan shook him.

Luke shoved against Dylan’s chest. “I got away so I could call the police – and see Annie.”

He should force Luke to go with them. They’d changed the past so much already just by being there. Hell, that doctor was dead.

But, he understood Luke’s need. He was there for the same reason as Dylan.

The woman he loved.

“Where’s the machine?” Dar said.

“He parked it in William Land Park. A clone is inside.”

Dar took off, Dylan following, trotting backward. “Hurry, Powers.”

He said, “If I’m not there in forty-five minutes, leave without me.”

***

Luke ran inside the emergency room doors and straight to the nurse’s station. Breathing hard, he said, “I came in earlier with Brianna St. James. I need to see her.”

The nurse frowned at him. “Have you been in an accident, sir? Are you in pain?”

Actually, punching Cyrus had felt like a million bucks. But, he’d dwell on that later. He needed to get to Annie.

“Can you call the police and send them to William Land Park? A man has taken the woman that was with us.”

Her eyes widened before she picked up the phone.

Another nurse walked in. “There you are, sir. Your daughter’s been asking for you.”

He didn’t have time to let the label penetrate his pride. “Can I see her?”

She waved him back. “Come on.”

Walking down the hall, the nurse hummed under her breath, her white stockings swishing with each step.

He said, “What’s wrong with her?”

Smiling, the woman shook her head. “I don’t know how, but she came away from the accident with only a broken leg, and cuts and bruises. She’s going to be black and blue for a while, but she’ll be fine.”

Relief buckled his knees.
Thank God
. He grabbed the wall for support.

The nurse stopped and touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, he grinned at her. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

She smiled again and held out her arm in invitation. “I’ll get the release papers ready. You can take her home.”

Home. Could he even contemplate that? Or, would she think he’s crazy and have him arrested?

He had no time to entertain doubts. Dylan and Dar were waiting. He had to tell her everything and let her decide.

“Luke.” Annie sat up in bed, her face already turning dark with bruises. “Is it really you?”

Walking over, he sat beside her on the bed. “Yes.”

Her eyes were filled with questions as they studied his face. How did he do this? How did he convince her to give him a chance?

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he said, “but I don’t have time-“

“Where did we first make love?”

He grinned, the memories as fresh as if they’d happened yesterday. “On the seventh hole of the Pebble Beach golf course. It was about two in the morning by the time I convinced you it was the most romantic idea I’d ever had.”

Her bottom lip quivered, tears pooling in her eyes.

“We rolled into the sand trap and got sand stuck to our skin. I don’t think I ever got all of it out of my Camaro.”

“Luke…” She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”

Taking a deep breath, he blew it out. “This is me, Sweet, in the year twenty-fifteen.”

She started, her eyes going wide beneath deep brows. “What?”

“I came back for you.” Glancing down at his lap, he gave a bitter laugh. “It didn’t hit me until I got here that you wouldn’t want a man my age. Obviously, Riordan got his intelligence from you.”

“Riordan? You… know him?”

Retrieving his phone, he brought up a picture of Riordan and handed it to her. “Yes. He’s engaged to be married.”

Her eyes widened in genuine joy before she looked at the photo. Her fingers shook as they caressed the screen. “He looks just like you…”

“…when I was younger.” Regret and despair stabbed his chest. “Yes, he does. He’s a good man.”

She looked up. “So, where am I in the year twenty-fifteen?”

Her question rocked him where he sat. He couldn’t tell her she was dead. Now that they’d avoided the car accident, he didn’t know what the future would be like when he returned. If he returned.

He checked his watch. He had to hurry.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Her voice was just above a whisper.

He’d never lied to her and never would. “You were, yes. But, now that I’ve come to the past, things have changed. I don’t know what it will be like when I return.”

“If I stay with you, we would be together no matter what happens, right?”

His throat clogged, his heart pounding in riotous beats. “You’d want me… like this?”

Her voice trembled as she sniffed back tears. “All I’ve ever wanted is you, Luke.”

Disbelief and utter joy impelled him forward. He planted a hard kiss on her mouth.

With a soft hand on his jaw, she smiled. “Take me home, Luke.”

Teague dragged her feet as Cyrus forced her down a street not far from the park. Night had segued into early morning, the boulevard dotted with intermittent lights.

He’d stopped in a phone booth and called a cab, but after waiting twenty minutes, decided to walk. The lack of technology, on top of her behavior last night, had clearly pushed him to the edge of his patience.

He wiped at the blood running from his nose. Luke had shocked her when he jumped Cyrus outside the hospital earlier. What shocked her even more was that Cyrus just… took it. He’d grabbed her arm and walked away without a backward glance.

She knew Luke would contact the police. He wouldn’t leave her without calling for help. Somehow, they’d formed an unspoken bond over Annie’s accident, a… friendship. She seemed to have collected a lot of friends lately.

A couple holding hands passed them on the pavement. Luke knew the consequences of striking Cyrus, knew he was stuck in the past now that he’d angered him. She had no doubt Cyrus would find another way of retaliation. With time travel at his disposal, his options were endless.

He led her across the street and onto the opposite sidewalk. She wondered what Dylan was doing now, if he and D.I.R.E. were making plans to find her, or if they’d decided to let her go as a traitor.

Now that she knew her true medical history, all the secrets she’d kept from him were for naught. Not that her findings were a total loss – she’d made great strides in the field of genetics.

But, she’d ruined a beautiful relationship for goals that were, in reality, just as uncertain as leaving her child’s health to chance. Her need for control had cost her Dylan. Cyrus had cost her any hope for a family.

Why was she going along with this? To protect Amy? How did she know he wouldn’t kill her anyway, like he did her parents?

“Why did you have to kill them?” The horrible words broke the eerie silence of the shadowy street.

He took a deep breath and let it out. “They wouldn’t allow us to raise you as we wanted. Your parents were very bright in their own right, so when Capri learned of your phenomenal IQ tests, we knew we had to have you. We offered them positions with our program, but unfortunately, they made the wrong decision.”

Loss seared her soul like a branding iron. As a child, she’d had no doubts, no fears. She would walk up to her parents and their love would greet her in a hug, a kiss or a smile. Perhaps, that’s why she hated meeting new people, why she hid in her lab. She knew love wouldn’t greet her, that love would be a no-show… again.

“Of course, no sacrifice is too great for your perfect world. Right, Cyrus?”

A red sports car passed them on the street, radio blaring. His grip on her arm tightened.

“Why can’t anyone see the bigger picture?” he said. “My people are perfect, inside and out, each created for a special need. They never question their self-confidence or compare themselves to their peers. They know their purpose in life and live it without conflict or bitterness. It’s only when humans enter the picture that trouble shows it face.”

“You’re human, Cyrus. Doesn’t that make your program flawed?”

Shaking his head, he stepped onto the park grass. “No, because I see the needs and imperfections of the world, and I’m doing something to correct them. No one has ever taken measures to bring about true, worldwide peace. The concept is only used to bring about political gains and beauty pageant wins.”

Teague watched a jogger approach, a Walkman at his waist, headphones over a backward baseball cap. “So, what happens when you die? Does the program die, too?”

“Keegan and I will have children, and I’ll instill in them the same vision and drive. By that time, I will have millions of my people out in the world, influencing humans and ridding the world of those that hinder the program. Like D.I.R.E.”

He sounded so confident.

She couldn’t allow it to happen.

If she cooperated and worked for him, maybe she could impair the DNA, cause mutations, and destroy his program. As much as she despised the idea, she had to stay with him.

“So, why all the dramatics, Cyrus? Why my tattoo?”

The jogger came parallel to her.

Cyrus’s voice held a cunning undercurrent. “It’s not a mere tattoo, Doctor–”

The jogger grabbed her with his left hand and swung her away from Cyrus, the Walkman and headphones transforming into a sledgehammer in his right fist. With one broad swing, he backhanded Cyrus across the jaw, sending him flying onto his back in the grass.

Dylan
. Her heart beat a wild tattoo against her chest.
He’d come for her
.

Grabbing her hand, he ran toward a cove of trees. “The time machine is on the other side of these trees.” He stopped short and glanced back at Cyrus, who lay back on his elbows, his bell good and rung. “Go. Dar is waiting there.”

“Dylan, if I stay with Cyrus, I can impair his technology from the inside. I can-“

Grabbing her shoulders, he kissed her hard on the mouth. The urge to weep flooded her with warmth.

“No, freaking way in hell.”

“But, it makes sense, Dylan. It’s the most logical way.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t up for a vote, Teague.” He trotted backward, toward Cyrus. “I’m not losing you again.
Now go
.”

***

Dylan jogged up to Cyrus lying in the grass. Blood trickled from his mouth, his jaw swollen and off center. He held his right hand fisted, his left flat in the grass.

“You came all this way for nothing.” Cyrus mumbled through narrow lips, his speech slurred.

Arms crossed over his chest, Dylan said, “No. I came all this way for her. Kicking your ass was an added bonus.”

Cyrus chuckled in his throat. “I’m afraid you’re going to leave empty-handed, Agent McCall.”

Dylan readjusted the baseball cap on his head. Nanobots scurried into his hand, forming a M9 Beretta. “Wrong again.”

Staring up at him with glittering blue eyes, Cyrus said, “You won’t kill me here. The domino effect would be devastating.”

“What? Do you think I can’t live without your clones kidnapping me from my squad, brutalizing me in Mongolia or abusing me in Hawaii?” His teeth clenched tighter with each word spoken, as memories and resentment warred to make themselves heard.

Cyrus said, “Don’t forget the heart surgery, McCall.” He wiped away a fake tear from his cheek. “That was one of my fondest memories.”

Freaking bastard…

Dylan dove at him, years of rage and torment goading him on. Rolling in the grass, Dylan pounded Cyrus’s face, needing the release, needing to feel his fist connect with the flesh of his broken jaw. He could use the nanobots and end this quick, but it wouldn’t slake his hunger for revenge.

Cyrus hit Dylan’s cheek with surprising strength. He winced mentally. His father’s voice whispered in his ear, calling him weak.

Growling low, Dylan slammed him back against the ground, a device flying from Cyrus’s hand and tumbling into the grass. They stretched for it, reaching, before Cyrus snatched it up and pressed down his thumb.

Nothing happened.

Cyrus stared up at him with wide eyes.

Dylan said, “I may have failed to mention that I removed your unique parting gift from the side of my heart.” He leaned down in his face. “I don’t usually re-gift but, in your case, I may make an exception.” Forming a KA-BAR knife in his hand, Dylan held it over Cyrus’s chest. “Maybe I’ll carve in my initials…”

Cyrus clenched the device in his fist. Dylan jolted, a lightning storm crackling inside his body, spreading to each fingertip and toe. The knife dropped to Cyrus’s chest, Dylan’s limbs stiff, tingling… unmoving. He fell over to the ground, his body locked.

The knife disintegrated, the nanobots falling to the dirt, frozen kindred spirits. He couldn’t move, couldn’t bat an eyelash, though his mind fully functioned.

Pushing off Dylan’s leg, Cyrus leaned down in his face. His warped features looked ghoulish, his hot breath carrying the scent of blood.

“Haven’t you learned by now that I will always be a step ahead of you, Agent McCall?”